Showing posts with label prophetic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prophetic. Show all posts

Monday, December 21, 2015

The Joy of Advent (and the Canticle of the Turning)

St. Matthew’s, Chandler
4 Advent
Year C

We are beginning the fourth week of Advent, and so this may be a good time to recap what has transpired in the weeks before.  If the Gospel lessons from scripture have not seemed to be telling a coherent story, it is because they have not been telling a linear story.  In fact, the gospel lessons have been going backwards.

So— on the first Sunday of Advent, the lectionary gave to me: a full-grown Jesus preaching prophecy.  The 33 year old Jesus foretells his second coming and the troubles before his next appearance.  Advent is as much about the expectation of this next appearing of Christ as it is about preparing for the season of Christmas and the celebration of the Incarnation, when Christ came to Earth in the flesh.  

On the second Sunday of Advent, the lectionary gave to me: John the Baptist and Isaiah’s prophecy.  It was foretold that one would come before the Messiah to prepare the way, and call people to repentance.  This was John the Baptist, who would soon baptize Jesus before Jesus began his own three-year ministry.

On the third Sunday of Advent, the lectionary gave to me: John’s ethics and End-times prophecy.  This was a continuation of the week before. You might remember.  John:

…said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance… Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."
And the crowds asked him, "What then should we do?" In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, "Teacher, what should we do?" He said to them, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." Soldiers also asked him, "And we, what should we do?" He said to them, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."
"I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming…His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat…but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
So, with many other exhortations, John proclaimed the good news to the people.[1]

Wait, there was good news in that?
We’ll come back to this.

On the fourth Sunday of Advent, the lectionary gave to me:  Elizabeth extolling Mary.  Today, we hear about what happens right after the angel Gabriel visits Mary with the news that she will carry the Son of the Most High God. Elizabeth is six months pregnant with John the Baptist when Mary hurries to visit her relative living in the hill country just outside Jerusalem, and “Elizabeth no more than hears Mary’s words of greeting, and she knows what has happened. Luke tells us that Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she cries out,

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb…for as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”[2]

At this point Mary cannot help herself.  She bursts out into song—not that “12 Days of Christmas” business—no! The Magnificat, or the Song of Mary! (“My soul magnifies the Lord!”)  We’ve heard at least one version today.

In these four weeks, we have come a long way.  From the haunting tones of “O come, O Come, Emmanuel” which always seem to me to speak of seeing the light of Christ from a great distance—as a single flickering candle at the end of a long dark tunnel—to this song of Mary that speaks of a reality so close that it seems at hand and present.
God has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.

Mary and Elizabeth absolutely revel in the possibilities of a world turning upside down.  The joy with which they do so is also a key for understanding John the Baptist from last week.

John the Baptist sounds harsh.  All the prophets do.  In fact, Mary’s song has a harsh tinge to it as well, particularly if you think it unfair that anyone—particularly the rich—are sent away empty.  What is the good news here? 

The good news is that we follow a God and creator who loves us and cares for us.  We are not at liberty to say that God offers a blind eye or unqualified affirmation to everything humanity does.  The same loving-kindness that God shows to us is shown to all of creation. For if God offers an unqualified patience and affirmation to everything we do—even those things which harm others—then the Gospel holds no good news for the many who suffer for the sake of the comfort of a few.  There was and is need for the savior we are awaiting. 

And the prophets’ call to repentance is the reminder that we are not individually God’s sole project on this earth. The call to repentance is misunderstood if it is seen only as a project of personal improvement.  That is too small a glory for the Kingdom of God we proclaim as “on the way”—a Kingdom proclaimed by building communities that practice love in spite of our fears and our lusts for power and control over others.

John’s words to the rich, the tax collectors, and the soldiers to give to others out of their abundance, to not collect more than they are supposed to, to not steal from the people they are watching over— These are the habits of justice and mercy on Earth that prepare people for living the Kingdom of Heaven.  John’s preaching makes plain again that there is a God who cares about the weak, the poor, the needy, and the outcast—just like every prophet before him, just like the psalmists, just like Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary, just like Jesus and we who follow after. 

This is a hard message for the rich, the tax collectors, and the soldiers who have to give up the practices that enriched them, and learn a new way of being in the world.  This is a hard message today for anyone who finds they have the power to enrich themselves at the expense of others and act to do so or allow it to happen.  But this message that God cares and that God is acting to turn the world around is precisely what Good News looks like to those whose experience of love, justice, and mercy is wanting or nonexistent. And the good news for the powerful is that they are indeed invited into this turning of the world—to find that after the work of turning toward love, justice, and mercy, they will see the riches of Kingdom and regain their full humanity by learning to see God more clearly as well as the equal belovedness of those they had previously overlooked. 

With this turning of the world, in which the normal expectations of power and prestige and the problems borne from their exercise are turned upside down, and a Kingdom of perfect love and justice are realized as the lowly are lifted up.

And we follow a God who delights in such reversals.  Our expectations of God’s work he will shatter, and yet still fulfill. In a world in which the powerful are marked by being well-borne, with affluence and fortune, God will choose a different path.  Instead of a savior borne of impeccable pedigree, God will send his son to be born of a sexually suspect, unwed, poor, young woman, who could not even find a room at an inn—a son begotten from before time and through whom all things were made, whose first bed on earth will be an animal’s feeding trough.  This entrance into the world was not an accident. The creator of the universe could have had Jesus born into power.  

But God chose this young woman, marginalized in her own time, who yet finds sanctuary and hospitality with her cousin who is also pregnant under divine circumstances.  

And both hearts are so full that the only proper response is laughter and song! 
They know they are living in the good news of God’s confounding ways! 
There’s the joy of the season!    

How shall we welcome such a scene this week?  
How shall we prepare for the world to turn?

-----------------------

I requested that the Canticle of the Turning be sung by the choir for this Sunday; which is a song that highlights what is in plain sight in the Magnificat, but is somewhat muted in the song’s familiarity and Mary's meek and mild image.

My soul cries out with a joyful shout

that the God of my heart is great,
And my spirit sings of the wondrous things
that you bring to the ones who wait.
You fixed your sight on your servant's plight,
and my weakness you did not spurn,
So from east to west shall my name be blest.
Could the world be about to turn?

Refrain
My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near,
and the world is about to turn!

Though I am small, my God, my all,
you work great things in me,
And your mercy will last                          
from the depths of the past
to the end of the age to be.
Your very name puts the proud to shame,
and to those who would for you yearn,
You will show your might,                          
put the strong to flight,
for the world is about to turn.

From the halls of power to the fortress tower,
not a stone will be left on stone.
Let the king beware for your justice tears
ev'ry tyrant from his throne.
The hungry poor shall weep no more,
for the food they can never earn;
There are tables spread, ev'ry mouth be fed,
for the world is about to turn.



Though the nations rage from age to age,
we remember who holds us fast:
God's mercy must deliver us
from the conqueror's crushing grasp.
This saving word that our forebears heard
is the promise which holds us bound,
'Til the spear and rod can be crushed by God,
who is turning the world around.





[1] Portions from Luke 3:7-18.
[2] Jan Anderson, (http://adventdoor.com/2009/12/13/advent-4-the-sanctuary-they-make-in-meeting/#sthash.5izj979b.dpu).

Sunday, July 26, 2015

The Biblical Critique of Rulers

Robert Berra
Sermon at St. Augustine’s, Tempe
Proper 12
Year B

You may have noticed that since Trinity Sunday we have been reading the stories of the first kings of Israel. 

To briefly recap the last eight weeks: The people of Israel are tired of never having a king like other nations, so they ask the prophet Samuel to anoint a king for them.  Saul is chosen as the first king.  But Saul didn’t obey God, so God sent Samuel to secretly anoint a new king:  David.  Well, David and Saul get close after David slays Goliath; David is invited to live with Saul.  But Saul became jealous of David and repeatedly tried to kill him.  David escapes and lives as a wandering bandit for a while, pursued by Saul.  Eventually Saul dies. David comes back from the cold to be made king officially; and he brings the ark to Israel.  Last week, God promised to David that David’s kingdom and line would continue in perpetuity.

What I love about this particular track of Bible readings is that it begins with a bit of satirical foreshadowing.  Let’s return for a moment to that moment that Israel asks for a king eight weeks ago:[1]
All the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel [the prophet]…and said to him, "You are old and your sons do not follow in your ways; appoint for us, then, a king to govern us, like other nations." [Samuel wasn’t too happy about this, so] Samuel prayed to the LORD, and the LORD said to Samuel, "Listen to the voice of the people in all that they say to you; for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them. Just as they have done to me, from the day I brought them up out of Egypt to this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so also they are doing to you. Now then, listen to their voice; only-- you shall solemnly warn them, and show them the ways of the king who shall reign over them."
So Samuel reported all the words of the LORD to the people who were asking him for a king. He said, "These will be the ways of the king who will reign over you: he will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots and to be his horsemen, and to run before his chariots... He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers [not to mention concubines]… He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive orchards and give them to his courtiers… He will take your male and female slaves, and the best of your cattle and donkeys, and put them to his work. He will take one-tenth of your flocks, and you shall be his slaves. And in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves; but the LORD will not answer you in that day."
But the people refused to listen to the voice of Samuel; they said, "No! but we are determined to have a king over us, so that we also may be like other nations, and that our king may govern us and go out before us and fight our battles."
God told Samuel to paint a dismal picture of kings, and that speaks to the cynic in me.  So that is what Samuel did, basically saying that if Israel wants a human king instead of a protecting God, that is what Israel will get.  And it will not be fun for anyone.  This is an example of some of the earliest political critique in the Bible, and will form the basis from which all of the kings of Israel will be critiqued and judged, all because Israel wanted to be like every other nation.
And this week… we have a story in of Hebrew Bible reading that, while it is brief, has all the drama of an episode of Game of Thrones.    

The reading begins by saying that in the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent his soldiers to war.  How kingly.  You can kind of hear the writer saying “See?  He’s like every other king, sending his people to war, in the spring, as kings do.”

Well, In the midst of this, David (who we are told is not leading from the front) has an indiscreet moment with Bathsheba, Uriah’s wife.  

[Note:  It's worth saying that what happened between David and Bathsheba would be most accurately categorized as rape or sexual assault.  There was probably no meaningful way for her to say 'no' in such a situation...as such there was no meaningful consent.]

She conceives,so David tries to find a way to cover up the whole matter.  He calls Uriah back from the front, presumably to ask him how things are with the army, but then basically sends him to be intimate with Bathsheba so the child will be thought to be Uriah’s, saying "Go down to your house, and wash your feet [wink, wink]."

But Uriah, being the pious and patriotic eager beaver that he is, says "The ark and Israel and Judah are in tents; and my commander and the servants of my lord are camping in the open field; shall I then go to my house, to eat and to drink, and to lie with my wife? As you live, and as your soul lives [he says to David] I will not do such a thing."  Soldiers in Israel at this time had to maintain purity by avoiding intercourse while at war. David knew this too; in his earlier days, he enforced this purity on the warriors who rode with him.[2]  But, these were desperate times, and his secret needed to be kept.  David even tried getting Uriah really drunk, hoping he’d forget himself and go home.  That didn’t work. 

So, David does something quite drastic.  David sends a letter to the commander of his forces, saying “Set Uriah in the forefront of the hardest fighting, and then draw back from him, so that he may be struck down and die."”  And that’s not even the worse part.  David has Uriah unknowingly deliver his death sentence in that letter to the commander.  That’s cold.  That’s exactly how Uriah died, too.  Bathsheba probably didn’t know the full story of how her husband died, but after her mourning, David brings her to his palace and marries her.  Insult upon injury.  The story will be continued next week.

David’s epic continues, but one can see in this story the beginning of Samuel’s warnings coming to fruition.  Eventually the monarchy fails Israel as kings disobey God and abuse their own people.

Let’s fast forward nearly 1,000 years.  One of David’s descendants is roaming the Galilean countryside and getting quite a bit of attention.  In our reading today, Jesus miraculously feeds thousands out of the limited resources he was given.  He had been performing signs and wonders as a way of pointing to his identity.  But what draws my attention today is that:

“When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.”[3]

The crowd reacted in a way that is completely understandable.  At the time, it was that that a prophet and messianic king would come with signs and wonders, and these signs were marks of the promise of the messiah’s arrival.  The messiah would then bring about the liberation of Israel from Roman control.  I’m sure the crowd would have been confused by Jesus’s refusal to take the power they were handing him. 

But why would he do that?  Why would he turn that power down?

I think the key to understanding Jesus in this passage, and indeed his whole project on earth, is to keep in mind both the biblical and prophetic estimation of earthly rulers (such as Samuel’s low opinion of kings) and Jesus’s confrontation with the representative of Roman authority:  his interrogation by Pilate before his execution. 

When Jesus goes before Pilate in the Gospel of John, the interrogation never really gets beyond Pilate asking Jesus who he is.[4]  “Are you a king?  Where are you from?” Jesus only answers cryptically before eventually falling silent. 

As Jesus falls silent before Pilate’s questions about his identity, Pilate asks “Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?”  That is a terrible power—the power given him by the state.  But Jesus knows something else, and it becomes evident as the drama unfolds.  The threat to use this power is a sign of fear.  It is a grasp for control of the situation.  It is the way earthly power works, then and now.  Earthly power is borne out of the desire to control our own fear.  The torture and crucifixion Jesus would endure—and so many other uses of force both great and small— are examples of this worldly power.  The desire to control others.  To control circumstances. To bend the will of a person to our own use. Its use is borne out of fear.  This power is used when the lie of control we continually tell ourselves fails. 

It is this same fear and grasping for control that led Israel to demand a king in the first place.  The people did not trust God, and for good reason they did not trust Samuel’s sons.  The people desired to take their chances with the same rules every other nation lived by.  And it was this lie of control and domination borne of fear that Christ came to expose as a poor substitute for the fuller truth of God’s gracious reign. 

These justifications and rationalizations of worldly power are the lies of control that Jesus exposes by not bending to Pilate’s threat.  It is the worldly power Jesus exposed as a fraud through his resurrection—his resurrection which shows that the worst that worldly power can do will not have the final say.  It is the power Jesus was tempted with when Satan offered him control of all the kingdoms of the world.[5]  It is the worldly power Jesus refused to take up when the crowds surrounded him to make him a king by force.  It was the power that David relied on, thinking he could hide his misdoings.

What does this mean for us today?  Well, you might not have heard about this—we’ve been keeping it kind of hush-hush and there’s barely a word about it in the media—but I hear there is an election coming up.    

We are still more than a year away from the elections, and still candidates of every stripe are already making promises and presenting us with worldviews that may or may not come to actual policy.  And as some candidates—of every stripe—begin to point to their religious affiliations to appease voters who claim a faith—or surround their policies in a patina of holiness as though their position papers fell like manna from heaven—or claim their presence in the race as the humble following of God’s will—it is worth noting that the Bible is deeply skeptical of worldly power and its exercise.

Instead of recommending that an outgrowth of the skepticism is to shy away from the political process in an effort to remain untainted, I think it is more likely the case that we are asked to consider how our political decisions are an outgrowth of Christ’s command to love God and our neighbors in concrete ways.  I believe, just as we see in David the possibility of great failings, and as Christ called out the death-dealing limits of worldly power, we are called to sober discernment of what we are promised in our life together as a nation.

But beware.  The cheers of crowds and the blaring campaign songs are sometimes loud enough to drown the still, small voice calling us to forgo the calculations that keep us estranged from everyone around us and grasping for control.  Yet there are candidates who rely on worldly calculations of power and appeal to fear to make their case of a world in which we exert more control.  And there are politicians who produce counterfeit visions of God’s kingdom come in the hope of attracting those of us who believe in the better world.  With both of these positions comes the all too common occurrence of declaring one’s opponents wrong in the best case, and demonic at the extreme.

May we all, following Christ’s example, escape the pull of worldly power and see through its abuses.  May we all be wary of trusting too much the devices and desires of our own hearts when we are promised their fulfillment at the expense of our neighbors.  And may we hold accountable to God those who aspire to power, whatever its exercise.

Let us pray,
Almighty God, to whom we must account for all our powers
and privileges: Guide the people of the United States
in the election of officials and representatives;
that, by faithful administration and wise laws, the rights of
all may be protected and our nation be enabled to fulfill your
purposes; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.[6]




[1] 1 Samuel 8:4-11, (12-15), 16-20, (11:14-15)

[2] See 1 Sam 21:5 and Deut 23:9-14.
[3] Jn 6:15.
[4] Jn 18:28-19:16.
[5] Luke 4:5-8.
[6] BCP, 822.